A War Beneath
by Hetalia1643
Summary: When falling through a mirror Antarctica is transported back in time to the year 1776 in the American colony of Boston. The Revolutionary War is coming and Ann will eventually pick a side between her brothers. Contains some vulgar language.
1. Prologue

I stared at the wall as I attempted to drown out the yelling. Another lecture from England and another little "talk" that was going to follow it. I had gotten another report card in and it wasn't pretty at all I might add. At least if America had been home he would try to understand me. I huffed and shifted in my seat as I played the next song on my playlist resting my chin on my hand as I propped my elbow on the arm of the chair. One second I was listening to _Simple Plan_, the next my earbuds are getting yanked right out of my already tender ears.

"…Antarctica I expect you to listen to me when I'm trying to speak to you!" Arthur was yelling as he snatched my iPod away, "Not sit there playing on your electronic devices! Can you go through a day without earbuds jammed in your ears?" I squeaked and reached for it as my blue eyes widened.

"Give it back! That's mine!" I exclaimed as I stood up. He shook his head and wrapped the cords around the device before dropping it into the pocket of his uniform. His blonde hair, the color almost identical to mine, was still messy as usual, his green eyes were full of some sort of disappointment and anger at the same time, he wore his usual uniform for the world meetings, and he tapped his foot against the hardwood floor as he glowered down at me.

"No, it's mine now. You're not getting it back until you learn to have a little respect for those who have authority over you and get your grades back up to at least a B." My jaw dropped and I couldn't help but stomp my foot as he headed off to his study.

"Why do you have to be such a jerk?!" I snapped crossing my arms as well. He spun around and gave me a glare that would usually make me shrink down, but not now.

"Oh I'M a jerk?! Well at least I care about your education!" he put his hands on his hips, "You need to stop being oblivious to the importance of learning!" My anger continued boiling and my fist clenched tighter before I said probably one of the stupidest sentences in my life.

"Well maybe I should fight for my independence so I don't have to deal with this crap!" I screamed as he was just about to go around the corner. He froze and I saw his hand clench around the corner of the wall and I immediately knew I went too far. He stomped up to me and got right in my face as he pinned me to the wall. My eyes widened and I shrunk down as he glared down at me.

"Shut. UP. You don't know what you're talking about!" he hissed as his green eyes flashed darkly, "You don't know what it's like, to have the burden of fighting against your own family. Sending out troops and knowing at least one of those soldiers are out to kill the person you have loved all your life. I raised Alfred and I am NEVER going to go through that horrible thing all over again! Do you know how many lives were lost because of one selfish action?!" I swallowed hard and felt myself shaking under his gaze.

He scowled and let go of the collar of my trench coat. "Forget about it, you're too young to understand stuff like this. You've barely hit the peak of what it truly means to be a country," he turned as hurt flashed across my features, "Go to your room. I don't want to see you until dinner."

I bit my trembling lip and ran to my room as I struggled to keep my emotions bottled in. The moment I shut my door behind me I burst into tears and threw myself on my bed. I wasn't the one who understood? He was the one who was basically calling me a horrible sister when I'm just trying to do my best.

"I-I wish I was i-independent!" I sobbed into my pillow, "I don't need England or America! I can do it myself!" That's all I had to do, get some supporters and I'll be out of this living hell I used to call home. I know Canada would help, maybe France since he always loves kicking Arthur's ass, and Germany promised me a favor. Yeah, I could do this. In a year maybe I could proudly say that I was an independent nation.

I closed my eyes as I thought about it, but heard a loud thump. I jumped to my feet and frowned as I neared the bathroom where the sound had come from. I saw no one and sighed, just my imagination. I glanced at the mirror hanging on the wall and saw how out of place my blonde curls were today. The mirror was beautiful silver with delicate designs on the frame indicating the Victorian Era it had been created in. How England managed to preserve such an old artifact confused me, but I had appreciated it when he said I could use it in my bathroom.

I frowned at it and my eyebrows furrowed, something was wrong about this. I leaned in close and tried to place my hand on the glass but had a startling realization that there was nothing. I was flung forward and tumbled into the mirror as my world went black.

~Time skip brought to you by Season 6 of Hetalia coming out in hopefully 2015~

Third Person POV

When Ann finally opened her eyes, all she saw was white. She moaned at the pounding headache she had and turned her head to see a big room that was definitely not hers. She sat up immediately and looked down as she realized she wasn't in her normal clothes either. It was a white long nightgown with long sleeves and a bow around the collar. She shrieked and looked around frantically before jumping out of bed.

She saw a closet and yanked the doors open. Inside was a wide array of dresses and what she guessed were petticoats. Her jaw dropped and her knees buckled as she tried to wrap her mind around what had exactly happened. One moment she had been looking at a mirror, the next she was in some fancy room wearing something that should have come out of a documentary she had seen at school.

Shaking violently Annabelle finally managed to find a pair of tan colored pants that were actually rather tight and a formal shirt to go with a golden vest and an ascot. Slipping on black knee-high boots she looked out her window, it had to be about 9 in the morning judging by the position of the sun in the sky.

Bunching her curls into a ponytail she tied a silk ribbon she found so her hair wouldn't hang in front of her eyes before leaving the room. She glanced around and slowly made her way down the spiral staircase that had stood not too far away. Her hand slid down the smooth oak wood and she stared at the beautiful chandelier hanging over her head. She didn't know where exactly where she was, but it was absolutely gorgeous.

A note sat on a long table in what she guessed was the dining room. She picked it up and read it as her eyebrows furrowed.

Dear Annabelle,

I have to go get some of the new papers the government is posting today. Stupid Arthur thinks he can just order us around all the time again, stupid huh? Be back soon as possible k?

-Alfred

P.S: It would be really nice if you could make me some breakfast. See ya when I get home.

P.P.S: (Haha that was funny) don't leave the house; Artie will kill me if he hears that you went out again and we'll go see his ship pull into the docks together.

Antarctica blinked a few times and read over it just to make sure she didn't need to pull out her glasses or something. Nope, it was real. That was America's sloppy hand writing and his terrible grammar usage as usual. But none of this made sense, papers from the government? England coming home in a ship? At the docks? What the hell was going on in this wacko world she had woken up in?

She set down the note before running to the living room. She passed a mirror and froze to look at her reflection. "Whoa…" she mumbled as she scanned herself, "I look like a fancy Brit."

She shook the horrid thought out of her head and slipped out the front door but almost fell over at the sight. There were horse drawn carriages, tall mansions that looked similar to the one she had woken up in, and people dressed in fancy outfits you expected to find in museums. She blinked a few times and shut the door behind her as she tried to figure out was going on here. A woman holding a parasol and talking to another man looked up and waved. "Hello Annabelle! What are you doing outside alone?"

She shoved back the urge to raise an eyebrow, how did this woman know her name? Or the whole thing about not going outside? "Um…" she started but the well-dressed man interrupted her.

"Everyone knows Arthur's ferocious temper;" the couple laughed together, "No one wants to deal with an angry Brit these days. He might not be here now but he should be back today from England."

"U-um sir?" she spoke up, "What year is it?" The man blinked a few times as if pondering if she was serious.

"1766 of course, time doesn't really go that fast in Boston." Ann just about fell over and clutched the railing for support. That stupid mirror had transported her to one of the American colonies; this was right after the French and Indian War.

She was in one of the bloodiest conflicts in the world's history, one that her brothers had always talked about.

The revolution that would change England and America's relationship forever was just around the corner.


	2. Chapter 1

Antarctica tried to gather her thoughts as she struggled to wrap her mind around what had just happened. She was in Boston and the year was 1766 somehow. What kind of messed up crap was this? Maybe it was a prank to teach her a lesson? No, England's magic was definitely not good enough for that. And America would never be able to come up with something so elaborate. This was either some dream, or she had really been transported here. Not to mention as she looked at herself more, she had gotten younger as well.

She tried pinching her arm and flinched; nope she could feel that and didn't wake up. In her dreams she never felt anything. This was actually happening, she was in the time of the Revolution. If it was 1766…

"Goddammit!" she thought as she struggled to remember what happened this year in Boston, "Why didn't I pay attention to England's lectures on history?!" Something was supposed to happen soon… but what? She walked through the streets as she pondered on the subject, did it have something with the documents America had been talking about in his note?

She froze in the middle of the street, that was it! The Stamp Act! That caused a huge uprising in Boston that followed with the Boston Tea Party! She felt like cheering, she had always wanted to be a part of that. When Alfred had described it she actually ended up reenacting it by taking all of Arthur's tea and throwing it in the coy pond. That didn't go well for her or America in the end.

"Hey Annabelle!" someone yelled, "MOVE!" She was knocked down to the ground as a horse barely missed running her over.

She gasped as adrenaline shot through her entire system and glanced up. "Alfred?!" she shrieked.

This America looked slightly different. He was definitely younger and didn't have any glasses. Not to mention there was no bomber jacket but brown pants and a brown vest that was more loose fit than hers. But there was still the cowlick, the sparkling blue eyes, and the hero grin that made him the brother she knew and loved.

He hopped to his feet and yanked her up. "Dude what were you thinking?!" he yelled making her flinch slightly. Okay, so maybe this one was more than different.

"I was just-"

"I told you not to leave the house in the note! Didn't you see it?! And then you almost get run over by a horse?! And you wonder why we don't like you coming out here alone!" he dragged her out of the street, "Can you at least try to pay attention to where you're going?! I want Artie to trust me with taking care of you when he's in England!" She stared at him and yanked her arm away.

"He's coming home today right?" she asked finally.

"Yeah! And dude he's going to criticize your outfit," he put a hand on his hip and transformed into an England pose, "'No young lady should wear such boyish clothing! It's not proper! You're a woman of high classed society, not some man about to go hunting!'" His voice went high pitched and whiny to imitate the British accent.

Ann burst into giggles and covered her mouth; it was a pretty accurate interpretation of the hot-tempered Englishman. He grinned at her as he dropped the acting but turned serious before turning around. "Come on, his ship should be arriving at the docks soon."

She nodded, even though she didn't know what was going on still. Thinking about it more, she finally came to the conclusion she had to be 15 physically speaking. So two years weren't really that much to go back in time really, in human years it would probably be about at least 50 years but for a country that was more of a blink of an eye. That figured that Alfred had to be around 18 to everyone else and Arthur was probably still 23.

The two started walking to the docks and Annabelle continued to soak in all the details around her. She had seen plenty of paintings of the streets of Boston when it was just another one of the thirteen colonies but they had all had the streets running with blood. She had never expected it to be so lively and buzzing with activity, no fights or random British soldiers attacking innocent pedestrians. Maybe all the history books exaggerated how brutal the English were to the civilians.

"The boat has made it to the harbor!" someone shouted and America quickened his pace immediately.

"Come on Annie!" he called as he started to run, "Race you there!" She laughed and sprinted after him, dodging and weaving through the crowds. There were a few shrieks and some very crude yelling at them.

"Well I never!" one woman gasped as Antarctica almost knocked her over, "A young woman of high class! Running like some young boy that's a juvenile delinquent! And that vulgar outfit!"

"I know!" another chirped in response, "After Arthur's been gone at sea so long I think she just inferred she could act like a complete hooligan!"

"Good thing he's coming back today!"

"Maybe he'll be able to whip her back into shape!"

Ann couldn't help but roll her eyes and blocked out the rest of the conversation, but not before she turned around. "HEY!" she yelled and they all turned to face her, startled but slightly curious.

She held up her middle finger and a loud gasp ran through the entire gathered crowd as she loudly proclaimed, "FUCK YOU!"

She quickly turned back around and scurried to catch up with Alfred as there were roars of anger and shouts to get out of the way. America glanced at her then at the people starting to chase her. "What did you do this time?" he asked dryly as they approached the harbor.

"Nothing!" she said defensively and looked up as the plank was scooted out and the people started flooding out of the boat. Searching for the Brit, she noticed all the other fancy men in red coats. Seriously, what idiot would choose their military uniforms to be red? You could be spotted from a mile away. Especially if you're sitting up there on your horse acting all high and mighty.

Finally as the last couple of members of the crew came down England appeared. He didn't really look that different from before except much more professional and if it was even possible more serious. Alfred sprinted up the plank and hug attacked the Englishman making Annabelle smile slightly.

"Hey dude I missed you so much!" he started to exclaim, "I-"

"Alfred can you please get off of me! You're getting dirt all over my uniform!" he snapped surprising Ann. America blinked and let go of his brother taking a small step away from him.

"Sorry dude I-"

"And for goodness sake Alfred stop using that dreadful word in my presence! It's insulting not only your own intelligence but my upbringing of you as well! Especially since your grammar is bad enough as it is! I swear if you keep continuing to use such disgraceful language in my presence I'll wash your mouth out with a bar of lye soap!" Antarctica felt a touch of sympathy for her older brother as his joyful expression turned into one of embarrassment as he was publically scolded in front of all the pedestrians that had gathered at the docks.

"Oh come on Arthur! I haven't seen you for two months and all you can do is criticize me?" he complained.

England pinched the bridge of his nose and took a long deep breath. "My deepest apologies, it was a dreadful trip home. Storms every other day and I'm pretty sure I threw up at least three times. Some pirate I am right?" He gave him a tight hug before pulling away holding his shoulders. "My have you grown AGAIN? I leave for two months and already you've shot up at least another 3 inches."

He grinned as he practically burst with pride, Ann knew he was always boasting about his height and it was pretty obvious he enjoyed other people pointing it out. "Yeah! I'm at least a head taller than you now!"

Arthur chuckled and reached up to ruffle America's hair. "Now where's our sister? Don't tell me she got in serious trouble."

Alfred shook his head and turned to wave at Ann. "Come on! Get up here!"

She headed up the plank and gave a small smile. "Hey Arthur," she held out her hand as a formal greeting, "Have a nice trip?"

"Annabelle. What…" he started to say after he looked at her up and down, "In the name of all sanity are you wearing?" She blinked and looked down at her rather comfortable outfit, much better than having to wear a stupid petticoat and dress.

"Well clothes of course. I don't think you would appreciate me going out to greet you nude," she said as her voice dripped with thick sarcasm. He gave her a glare and crossed his arms.

"One, drop the attitude with me young lady. Two, no woman especially one in the class you are should wear such boyish clothing. Not in public, not doing chores, not even in your room, absolutely never." She rolled her eyes and placed a hand on her hip.

"Oh come on wearing pants isn't a crime. I mean eventually men will be accepted even if they wear dresses," she retorted. His expression turned revolted and he stared at her as if she grew a second head.

"Excuse me?!"

"Oh I'm pretty sure you haven't grown deaf yet old man. But give it a few years and yeah you should be set." A few people gasped at her outright disrespect but she didn't really care. Maybe this time was slightly different but that didn't mean she was going to sit on the side lines while England tried to publically humiliate her. She was going to simply throw it right back at him.

His face turned red and he clenched his fist tight against his thighs. "Annabelle I suggest you lose the tone with me right this instance. I don't appreciate you being so rude to me just after I get home."

"Says the guy who the minute he saw me started to critique my fashion choices. I'm fifteen, not five. You don't need to pick my clothes out in the morning anymore." His eyes darkened dangerously.

"I'm not in the mood to argue with you Annabelle. We're going home and we'll finish this conversation there." She snorted and turned from him as two of the women that had been whispering about her ran up.

"General Kirkland!" one of them yelled, "Something needs to be done about that wretched sister of yours!"

"She held her middle finger up at the entire crowd and started yelling vulgar language!" the other added. His eyes narrowed.

"Oh really? If I may ask, what exactly did she say to ever so offend you and the rest of the audience?"

The first woman blushed as she leaned forward and whispered something in his ear as she hid her mouth with her hand. There must have been something bad because his face turned dark red and he was giving her glares that could slice a person up. By the time she had finished he looked like a volcano ready to explode.

"Annabelle Elizabeth Kirkland…" he hissed, "I want you to go home with Alfred, NOW." Antarctica swallowed hard and didn't even resist when America gently took her arm and started leading her away from the dock.

"Come on… you heard him…" he mumbled softly. She nodded slowly and followed him through the streets. She knew she had gone too far and made a terrible mistake. If the England she was used to dealing with was temperamental, then how was this England going to be?

To Be Continued


	3. Chapter 2

Antarctica slipped into the mansion as America followed her. After being in this world for fifteen minutes she's already managed to piss off a multitude of people including England himself. Honestly, not her best morning.

She ran her fingers through her bangs since her hair was in a ponytail still. This was crazy enough as it was, but having a whole mob that completely hated her for not being their definition of a proper lady was the last straw for her. She didn't care what she had to do, she wanted out of this horrible time period.

"Dude I suggest you head to your room now," Alfred mumbled quietly, "He'll need some time to cool off after everything…" Ann nodded and started heading to what she was guessing was supposed to be her room. She still wasn't sure how to grasp the concept about how she was in a completely different time period she technically wasn't even supposed to be alive in. Now all of a sudden she's fifteen again and with an eighteen-year-old America and living in the American colony of Boston.

She flopped on the bed and screamed into her pillow to let out all of her confusion and pressing emotions. There was no way she was going to wear only dresses for the rest of her time here. She would rather die than wear those heavy lairs of petticoats and skirts. Or those small heels, how could have combat boots not have been invented yet?

"I guess there's no such thing as the trench coat either," she mumbled and tugged at her ascot she had actually grown on. She actually remembered Germany telling her that the trench coat was invented in World War I because they were in the trenches and it would not only keep them safe from the rain but some kept the wearer warm. But from her time they were simply a fashion statement.

Now she at least knew to be much more careful with how she acted around everyone. This wasn't the 2014 anymore where women had freedom of speech and such, this was 1765 before women were even classified as real people instead of property. No one would respect her or anything she ever said in this era. The only way to earn any sort of regard was if she made a show of who she was. Even that was going to be difficult, none of the Bostonians were going to pay attention to a fifteen-year-old if they're too distracted enough by politics.

Her train of thought was interrupted by the sound of something crashing and loud cursing. She sat up and out of curiosity ran out of her room and down the stairs.

Alfred was leaning against the wall panting and a broken potted plant laid next to his feet with a few papers resting on it. His untamable dirty blonde hair hung in front of his face covering his eyes, hands clenched into fist and pressed into his thighs, and his whole body was trembling violently.

She took a tentative step towards him. "A-America? A-are you okay?" she asked quietly and reached up to brush his hair away from his eyes when he growled at her.

"Don't. Touch. Me." He lifted his head slightly and a dangerous blue fire lit up in his irises. She immediately backed away from him and drew her hand close to her chest as she whimpered. Sure Alfred had always have his moments but this was worse than anything she had seen him do. She glanced at the papers and picked it up as her hands shook from fear that he was going to snap at her again.

New Act Issued: Stamp Act

An act for granting and applying certain stamp duties, and other duties, in the British colonies and plantations in America, towards further defraying the expenses of defending, protecting, and securing the same; and for amending such parts of the several acts of parliament relating to the trade and revenues of the said colonies and plantations, as direct the manner of determining and recovering the penalties and forfeitures therein mentioned.

For every skin or piece of vellum or parchment, or sheet or piece of paper, on which shall be engrossed, written, or printed, any license, appointment, or admission of any counsellor, solicitor, attorney, advocate, or proctor, to practice in any court, or of any notary within the said colonies and plantations, a stamp duty of ten pounds.

And for and upon every pack of playing cards, and all dice, which shall be sold or used within the said colonies and plantations, the several stamp duties following (that is to say)

For every pack of such cards, the sum of one shilling.

And for every pair of such dice, the sum of ten shillings.

And for and upon every paper, commonly called a pamphlet, and upon every newspaper, containing public news, intelligence, or occurrences, which shall be printed, dispersed, and made public, within any of the said colonies and plantations, and for and upon such advertisements as are herein after mentioned, the respective duties following (that is to say)

For every other almanac or calendar for any one particular year, which shall be written or printed within the said colonies or plantations, a stamp duty of four pence…

Annabelle bit her lip as she finished reading the rest of it and glanced up at her older brother slightly. It went on and on about what was taxed and what all of it went to. She understood why he was so upset about it, this was the first large taxing directed to the colonies from the British government. It wasn't only not fair, but it made them feel as if they didn't have a say in their own colony anymore.

"America I-"

"It was him," Alfred interrupted suddenly. She blinked and tilted her head to the side.

"It was who?" she asked.

"England," he lifted his head and brushed his hair away, "I know he was probably the one who came up with this stupid thing."

"Well you never know! I mean the king could have just ordered it and he had no say over it!" she tried in an attempt to reason with him, but he just shook his head. Picking up the broken flower pot he headed outside and dropped it in the garden. He came back in, expression completely neutral.

"No, he had the papers with him when he had arrived. He probably came up with all this shit in the first place." He turned away from her and headed up the stairs.

"I'm not going to stand for this," he yelled down at her, "England can't just act like he controls the colonies now! I want justice and that's what's going to happen! I'll make sure this stupid act is repealed!" With that there was the sound of a door slamming followed by complete silence.

Ann groaned and flopped onto the couch as she pulled out her pony tail so she could run her fingers through her hair. This was too much stress on a teenager who had just time traveled. And she had thought puberty was challenging.

She sighed and turned onto her stomach so she could cross her arms on the arm of the couch and rest her chin on her forearm. Maybe all she had to do to get back home was find the mirror from her bathroom since it must had existed now. Well it was either that or a TARDIS. But she was guessing David Tennant or Matt Smith wasn't going to be coming here any time soon. No one would want to be in this horrid place at the time right before one of the bloodiest conflicts ever recorded, and she didn't mean British bloody.

Her head jerked up as the front door opened suddenly. England stepped inside before locking the door behind him and she scrambled to get into a sitting position. "H-hi England," she said with a small smile.

"Don't even try that shit with me Annabelle," he hissed, stomping over to stand in front of her. She swallowed hard and shrunk into the couch, hoping it would just swallow her up so she didn't have to deal with all of this right now. His eyes were blazing bright and it kind of reminded her of the Greek fire in the Percy Jackson series. Well they both caused the same amount of destruction.

He glowered down at her and crossed his arms tight over his chest. "What do you have to say for yourself? Using such vulgar language?! In front of a crowd! Do you have any idea how many people heard that?!"

She sighed, not regretful for her mistake. She was tired of being looked down on. She shouldn't have specific standards because of her age, gender, or appearance. She was sticking to her opinion, even if it meant the raging Brit would damn her to Hell. "I just-"

"You just what?! Didn't think?! Didn't know?! Do you have any common sense?! What were you thinking?! You made a fool of yourself, and more importantly, me!"

Antarctica looked down, not sure if she was disappointed in herself or not. She replayed the sentence in her mind again and crossed her arms, "Excuse me? I made of fool of you? And suddenly what the public thinks of you is SO important?!" She was beyond furious. She had never seen this side of him before. He was the one always telling her that what others thought wasn't important. And here he was saying that she had completely destroyed his reputation or something.

"I am an important public figure Annabelle! If I don't have a good status to the public then they'll have riots of being under a government! I'm already getting complaints about the Stamp Act being passed!"

"Oh, so everything is about you now, is it? When are you going to start to think about me? Your family? Or are you going to start a war with me too?"

England's eyes widened, as Annabelle realized what she had said. Technically the war hadn't even happened yet, but clearly he already feared the possibility. He backed up slowly, looking at the ground. She blinked a few times before standing up. "I'll just be in my room-"

All of a sudden there was a loud knock on the door. Arthur's head lifted immediately and he quickly headed off to answer it. She knew she probably needed to stay out of his business, but she couldn't help but be curious and peeked around the doorframe.

"…Thomas Hutchinson's estate sir. It's a full out attack against him. They're tearing the house apart and we think your brother is the one leading them. He's usually favored amongst the public but after the act being issued they're needing to find someone to blame."

"How can you tell he's the leader?" she heard England ask. Though he was keeping a calm tone, she could hear a little bit of concern.

"He's ordering everyone around him. Others said they had seen him visiting houses and collecting men that disagreed with the Stamp Act as well."

Ann wasn't one for politics, and honestly didn't understand most of what had gone on between him and America. A piercing head ache cut through her and she clutched her head as she fell to her knees. All of a sudden, pictures flashed in front of her eyes rapidly…

_She was a little girl, and one day when she woke up she had realized America wasn't up drinking coffee and making breakfast as usual; he wasn't even in the house. She frowned and got up from her bed and headed downstairs. There were broken items covering the floor, and the living room was a complete mess. She whimpered when she saw Arthur lying on the couch with a drink in his hand. He reeked of a strong odor which she recognized as gin and his messy hair was sticking up more than usual. He looked asleep but she was still terrified._

_"__E-Engwand..?" she whimpered quietly and took another step towards him. His eyelids twitched slightly and he stretched slightly before changing positions. Ann inched forward until she was leaning against the arm of the couch. She slowly reached out her hand and poked his shoulder._

_"__Ugh…" he mumbled and turned which made her squeak and back up immediately. As his eyes fluttered open he struggled to get into a seating position. Meanwhile Antarctica studied his expression and saw how glazed over his usually bright green eyes were. They were dull and clouded from his hangover._

_"__E-Engwand? A-Are you okay..?" she repeated quietly, just in case he was going to get mad at her. His head turned towards her and he blinked a few times as if trying to recognize who she was exactly._

_"__Oh..? I mean yes I'm fine Annabelle… don't worry about me-" he held his head in his hands and groaned, "Bloody hell… I have a wretched headache though… be a good girl and go get me some water would you?" She nodded and ran off to the kitchen. She didn't exactly understand what was going on, but by the time America had come home the house was back in order and everything was normal. She had simply tossed aside the memory, thinking nothing of it…_

Antarctica let out a raspy sigh of relief as the pictures faded along with the piercing pain. She got back to her feet, even though her legs felt like jelly and sweat beaded down her forehead rapidly. 'What in the world was that?' she thought as Arthur said his goodbye's to the man at the door. It wasn't a memory she had ever had, but one from this timeline. Was the time travel creating memories to fill in the gaps of her knowledge? Well maybe it could have been more useful when she started cursing at the crowd at the docks.

She took out a handkerchief that had been tucked into her pocket and wiped her forehead as she collected herself. The first thing she needed to do was get to that riot at the senator's house and see what was happening for herself. Heading upstairs first to get a coat, she headed outside and immediately saw a crowd of people rushing all in one direction. She followed them, running ahead and pushing her way through until she could hear the crashes and the yelling.

America stood outside the house and was shouting orders as men smashed through windows and ripped through walls. Ann ran up to him and grabbed his shoulder. "Alfred! What are you doing?!" He glanced over at her, unsure of the moment. He looked back at his men, forgetting about Annabelle and smirked. He was definitely proud of what he had accomplished today.

"Isn't it obvious? I'm going to make those goddamn Brit's pay! I'm making sure they'll regret placing that stupid Stamp Act!" There was a fire in his eyes, one that terrified her actually. It was one that would continue burning until he got his way. He was not going to stop until they repealed the act.

She bit her lip and grasped his hand which was shaking. "Alfred… are you sure you want to do this? I mean… Arthur's really trying. You don't want to make a decision you'll end up regretting." He frowned and turned to face her.

"Are you saying you agree with him taking away our freedom? You're always complaining about him treating you a child and having no independence yet you do nothing about it!" he crossed his arms, "Tonight I'm going to make him see that I don't need or want his freaking help. I'm not the small colony he raised, I'm ready to be on my own without his support." She blinked and let out a sigh.

"If you truly are set on this…" she straightened her back and smirked, "Then the least I can do is help you." He stared at her for a few moments before his face broke into a grin.

"Now that's the Ann I know and love!" he ruffled her hair making her smile slightly, "Go ahead and show them what us Americans can do." She snorted and ran towards the house before turning to him.

"I'M ANTARCTICAN!" she yelled and slipped inside the mansion. Bostonians were practically swarming the place, wielding muskets and knives. She turned her head and saw some tearing apart walls and struggling to open doors. One of the doors that they were currently working on was an eggshell white and looked fairly ancient.

"…the damn thing won't open!" a tall man with curly brown hair cursed. Annabelle raised an eyebrow and came over. These people were much more rugged than the people she had met that morning, apparently not all people here were stuck up politicians. She tapped the man's shoulder lightly and he spun around. "What the hell- hey!" he pointed a finger at her, "Women aren't supposed to be in here! Especially not one as young as yourself!"

She snorted and crossed her arms. "Tell that to my brother Alfred, you know, the one who's in charge of all this?" she added and immediately they looked uncomfortable.

"W-what do you want missy? It's not safe in here," a man with red hair and freckles pointed to some men who were tearing apart paintings, "People here aren't even sober." She sighed and waved them away from the door.

"Just get out of my way, I'll open the door." They stared at her and started to laugh hard.

"A little girl like you?!" a man wheezed through his guffaw, "Open a door three men can't?! Why don't you go back home to daddy? Bring him to help instead of making him send you!" Her eyes flashed dangerously and she glared at them. She didn't appreciate them making fun of her like she was some little girl.

"Just move before I kick your dick's so hard they won't be able to even pee right," she hissed and the laughter stopped immediately. They looked shocked, but moved away before she went with what she had promised.

"Well go ahead Miss…" one mumbled. She gave a sharp nod and cracked her knuckles before approaching the door. She cracked her neck and pressed her palms against the door but put one on the hinge. She knew if she broke the hinge the door would break off as well. She took a deep breath and slammed her weight into it. The metal hinge snapped and the door fell down.

She smirked and wiped her hands on her pants before glancing up at them. Every single one of their jaws had dropped and their eyes looked like they were going to pop out of their heads.

"Close your mouth, you'll catch flies." She stepped inside the room and glanced around rather interested at what could be so important that they wanted to break down the door, why would they be so desperate? There was a desk with a stack of piled papers and she headed over, picking it up.

As she looked through them, she found herself intrigued at the information. Judging by the Bostonian's rather extravagant response Mr. Hutchinson was thought to be a fighter of the people. Freedom and stuff like this. But in all these letters written by the governor he was quite the opposite. A loyalist.

A loyalist was a colonist that had come from Britain but didn't support the rebellion against the crown. They were devoted to the King and didn't care about the taxation without representation and such. Whatever King George the third thought was reasonable, they went along with. In her opinion, they were big wigs that had no guts to stand up for what was right because they didn't want to lose their jobs.

But what did something like this have to do with a war?

To Be Continued


End file.
